


dracula but make it fashion

by topquark



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood, F/F, G!P Josephine, Girl Penis Josephine, Inquisitor "Trevy" Trevelyan bc who knows what her first name is i dont, Mutual Pining, Pining, Poor charter, Top Josephine wink wink, Vampire! Josephine - Freeform, bc duh, bed sharing, inconvenient mystical orbs, like how vampires were made in skyrim but less brutal, semi-naked bed sharing, sylvians can ship too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topquark/pseuds/topquark
Summary: Some Sylvians, hormones, and a mystical orb turns Josephine into a bloodsucker of the night. Plus she has to share a small bedroll in a cave with the Inquisitor where both women have wet clothes.  What could go wrong (or right?)





	dracula but make it fashion

“Maker, I wish you’d have been a mage!”

They had been walking in the rain for four hours. It had taken them half a day to even find shelter in the cold, unforgiving forest they were stuck in. They were damp, grumpy, and hungry.

“Why couldn’t we get lost in the Emerald Graves? Or Crestwood? I’d even take the Approach at this point!”

Josephine was shivering, and quite loudly. The Inquisitor was working on getting the fire to kindle a few feet in front of her, to little success. It had been a long time since Trevy went camping - even when her party set up camp in the areas they fought in, she always relied on Vivienne for elemental concerns. The air bit at their skin, offering no hope that they would be able to sleep the storm away. She winced at another bite of cold.

“I suggest shouting at the wood until it combusts. Make a straw figure of Andraste and put it there, perhaps?” Trevy retorted.

The ambassador could only sigh. The day they’ve had had proved to be a logistical nightmare. They were only supposed to attend a gala in Montsimmard to woo investors for the Inquisition. Only a few guards, Cassandra, and the Ambassador were brought along. The road they travelled were known for its lack of bandits. They did not, however, expect living trees to suddenly harass them. Trevy would have preferred it if they had attacked the party – Maker, that would have been far simpler. Instead, the Sylvians, as if having a collective and conscious mind, formed miles of miles of lines that turned out to be a maze. The troops tried burning and hacking at the damned trees to no effect; from releasing pungent gases to outright slapping whoever tried to get near, they were determined in whatever mysterious purpose they followed. She studied these creatures and knew that they react upon intense emotions - whose emotion, she did not know. The Inquisitor mused whether she should only bring Tranquil the next time she travels along Sylvian-infested areas.

The ambassador stood up and stretched her stiff legs, “I will look for any means of survival deeper down the cave. Please do attempt to start a fire.”

Trevy nodded, and directed Josephine to carry one of her daggers. She eyed the sinewy muscles defined under the drenched shirt of the ambassador, noting how well she still kept up with her bard-like habits. Besides, she would not dare to stop the whirlwind of a woman. Her gait was dominant, and face scrunched with all the fierceness of an Antivan diplomat as she watched her disappear into the belly of the cave.

Trevy’s lips made a frown at Josephine’s sudden attitude. What did she do that made the usual calm and collected diplomat act like a spitfire?

The night would be long if Josephine apparently loathed her presence so much.

\---------

A cave she could handle. A storm? Easy. Difficult nobles? Wrapped around her finger like clockwork.

Spending the night with a beautiful woman in wet clothing where they _might_ have to strip, _might_ share a bedroll, and _possibly_ embrace to share warmth? She believed herself as a mature adult and would not stoop to the fantasies of a hormonal teenager. And the way that the woman bit her lip as she concentrated on the kindle – she felt utterly helpless and in want of those pillowy lips.

And yet she could not but attribute the reason why she trembled so much was because of sheer excitement. Her hands shook as she attempted a fire. Her world brightened when Trevy held them steady. The rush of emotions was a shock for her, and thus she redirected it as anger, rather than reveal the true depth of her feelings.

And when it became too much, she ran away. With Trevy’s stonestalker blade and determination, she searched the deep into the cave for any food or blankets. _Surely_ apostates or deserters must have camped here before.

Her right arm started to shake with how long she had clenched her fist. Her teeth grinding at the frustration of turning up with nothing. It was hopeless. She would freeze, Trevy would freeze, they’d both die, the Breach will never be sealed, the whole world will--

A glint in the corner. She gasped, hope rekindled, and her feet worked faster to investigate what that could be.

Rays of light shone through cracks in the walls, all pointing to a single object on broken pillar, as if cajoling her to get near it. It was no box of matches, hot stew, or second volume of Swords and Shields. But it radiated warmth, and that was enough. She was too cold, too hungry, and too horny to care if this sudden piece of convenient artifact turned out to have malicious intentions.

With shaking hands, she grasped at the spherical object. The moment her fingertips met its surface, her eyes rolled back, hair rising with sudden comfort she felt. She stood, unmoving, in ecstasy for a few seconds. Her mind reeled from the experience. When she finally got her breathing steady, her eyes immediately searched at the object, hands frantic in turning it left and right. Her middle finger felt a slight raised area near the bottom of the sphere. It was small, but clear as day. The engraving depicted a chalice, a pair of fangs, and what appeared as a drop of blood. The edges of the engraved droplet shone a scarlet hue, as if it was glowing.

Before the darkness engulfed her, she remembered tracing her thumb over the engraving, followed by a flash of red light.

\---------

“Ambassador? Lady Montilyet?”

She heard a frantic voice calling out to her. Trevy?

“Josephine! Maker – please be alright!” A series of light slaps on both sides of her face.

Her eyelids opened a fraction. She saw the blurry outline of the Inquisitor’s face above, mouth still moving with the effort of waking her. With a weak hand, she grasped at the wrist at her cheek.

“I’m alright, Inquisitor. Just had a nasty fall.” She finally said.

“Oh thank the Maker! I though that you were – I couldn’t – You –” Trevy’s chest was heaving with finding the right words to say.

Josephine tried to take a deep breath, when a sweet, coying smell assaulted her senses, filling up her entirety with a feeling of _hunger_. In a flash, she was on top of the other woman. The divine smell seemed to emanate from all around the Inquisitor, and centred around her neck. She buried her nose deep in the crevice between neck and shoulder. The more she took in, the more overwhelmed she felt. It was not unlike the truffles she was so fond of, but this smell made her body filled with undeniable want, with a desire to consume, to drink – to _possess._

“Josephine?” Trevy squeaked.

The woman in question leapt back. Her legs were tense, eyes suddenly wide with clarity. When Trevy rose as well, she stumbled further back. She let out a string of apologies as her back hit the pillar.

“Inquisitor, my apologies! I don’t know what came over me. Oh no, I’m very deeply sorry. Please, I –”

Her eyes landed on the orb she was holding earlier. She hesitated in grasping it this time.

“It’s that orb………I think……I have reason to believe that I – that it…” Her mouth could form no words to describe the events that transpired earlier.

Trevy grasped Josephine’s arm, fingers slowly sliding down her elbow in a calming gesture.

“Well, in my experience, whenever mysterious, spooky things are in front of us in a raised dais? We usually live it alone.”

The taller woman offered no reply – mind still reeling from possibly violating boundaries, and her own space being deliciously invaded. _I want to devour you._

“Come on,” Trevy sighed, “I finally got the fire starting.”

\---------

They laid around in silence. No conversation, witty reports, or even small talk. Both too busy processing.

Contrary to what Josephine believes, Trevy was not totally uncomfortable with her being tackled to the ground. The only unpleasant part was the cold floor digging into her back, but this was offset by the fact that Josephine’s face was practically buried into her neck. It felt good. Too good, in fact, that she almost missed the way Josephine’s eyes glowed.

She neglected to mention this to the other woman, for fear of putting her in more distress that she already is. Whatever happened had changed Josephine. At least for tonight. She pretended to be focused on the fire, but observed that Josephine’s eyes would not leave her. Mostly, she felt that gaze on her back, sometimes on her lips. The edges of her grey eyes were surrounded by a glowing red. They had a feral look to them. Shifting about like attempting to take in all of Trevy. Like she was a 12-course dinner in Halamshiral and Josephine was utterly famished.

It was a bit unsettling.

“You look at me as if I’d turn into a demon at any moment. Wouldn’t that be nice? Instead of immaculate conception I’d be a case of immaculate abomination.”

Josephine’s eyebrows shot up in a startle.

“I…apologise. I’m just not feeling very well right now.”

“I see.” Trevy shot her a worried glance. “We should get you checked up in Skyhold with whatever magic that orb might have done to you. For now, we rest.”

Those feral eyes, for the first time, removed itself from the damp rogue. It glanced instead at the single bedroll that Trevy happened to carry when they got lost. It could barely fit two people.

“I’ll sleep in the corner. Good night, my lady.”

A warmth grasped her wrist at she started for the cave wall. She saw that Trevy’s eyebrows were still scrunched with worry.

“Ambassad – Josephine. With what happened, I worry for you. It would be best if I could immediately sense any anomalies, any danger.”

_Am I the danger?_ Unconvinced, she stood her ground. She kept fidgeting at her hands behind her back, the desire to do _things_ still present – what she was driven to do, she did not know. But she could not risk endangering the Inquisitor. Too beautiful, too _delicious._

Sensing her hesitation, Trevy took on a pleading look.

“……………plus whatever happened to you made you really, _really,_ warm and I’m halfway to freezing and eventually become an icicle and do you think an icicle could defeat Corypheus because Maker that’d be nice but also—"

“Alright!” she stopped her rambling, “Are you always so convincing with women to share your bedroll, Inquisitor?” She felt lost at that damn lower lip pouting.

“Only the snappy, sarcastic, and beautiful ones.” Trevy grinned.

Josephine shifted her weight around, still nervous about the impending closeness. She _did_ fantasize about being intimate with the Inquisitor but nothing could ever prepare her for reality. Plus, there was the addition of the orb. Her fantasies did not include rude trees, hunger, and an apparently inconvenient ball.

She let out a choking sound when she saw her assigned sleeping space. Trevelyan was already in the bedroll, her back facing her.

Her _almost bare_ back.

Apparently in the moments she was recalling her fantasies the Inquisitor already stripped for sleep. Luckily, she still had underclothes. Unluckily, these underclothes were wet, and revealed enough to almost drive Josephine into a frenzy. She grasped her own throat to attempt to quell the feeling of thirst. It was futile.

 With a sigh, she removed only her shirt, leaving her in her traveling trousers and chest bindings. She slowly laid herself behind the smaller woman. Tried as she might, there was no conceivable way that she could leave a chaste space between them without the rough ground harassing her back.

No complaints for Trevy, however. The chattering of her teeth stopped a few moments Josephine laid beside her. The ambassador would not speak of the changes that happened to her body – but she saw it all. There was the increased body heat, the change in her eyes, and of course, the sharp incisors made sense that she craved for something. Something new to Josephine, if her hungry, but helpless looks were anything to go by. It was frightening.

Although she’d never admit, until much later, how _extremely_ arousing those fangs looked on Josephine.

\---------

One more side effect, Josephine recently learned, is that she hardly felt tired any more. All well and good, for a hardworking diplomat – not good for a horny, pining woman trying not to devour her bedpartner.

After finally convincing herself that she would not be getting an ounce of sleep, she opened her eyes. She gasped, her heart setting a frantic pace at the sight in front of her.

The first thing she saw was bright, glowing, red lines encompassing the body of the Inquisitor. Large, curving marks by her thigh, chest, and neck. The next thing that surprised her was how much intense her hunger had become. She felt her upper incisors grow in length. Her throat burned.

In fear, she shoved herself away. Ignoring the chill and roughness of the floor, her instincts screamed at her to get closer to the Inquisitor, to touch – to claim. Her senses were heightened. Her hands were shaking again, her senses were heightened this time. She could smell her grassy scent, see the curves of her back clearly in the dark, and she busied herself with observing the jagged scars outlining the expanse of her skin until –

_Oh._

Trevy’s unconscious state chose that exact moment to turn around, revealing how loose her chest bindings had become in her sleep. In her nearly-naked state, Josephine drank it all. The tops of her breasts, the muscles in her abdomen, the curve of her behind, the muscles on her limbs – there was no uncovered area that her bright eyes did not trace. The rational, diplomat side warned her of the implications as she inched ever closer. Close enough that she could see the tiny goosebumps outlining the Inquisitor’s skin. Close enough that she could see the cold puffs of air those lips breathed out.

Close enough for a battle-hardened rogue to sense her presence.

“Josephine?”

“Do you see it?”

“See what?”

“You’re glowing…covered in red lines…”

She leaned closer in their intimate space and nuzzled Trevy’s neck, her fangs brushing against her. Trevy let out a strained exhale.

“…and it’s making me thirsty.”

She bit down, hard. She heard a gasp, then a moan. She did not know from which of them it came from.

The first drop of blood on her tongue made her body relax in satisfaction. The fire in her throat seemed to grow stronger and become satiated at the same time. A rush of adrenaline flowed through her as she felt a hand on her neck not pushing her away, but holding her closer. Fingertips brushing against her cheek, and a somewhat pleasant feeling, ceased her drinking. She extracted her fangs, and gave a lick to the puncture she made. She felt a sigh above her.

Finally, she looked into those searching eyes, those eyes that crinkled with curiosity. She stared at the brown depth that held a thousand pains and a thousand joys. She saw those eyelids flutter with a weighty gaze. The hand not preoccupied with her neck caressed her cheek, to which she leaned into. She heard the thundering pace of the blood flowing in that wrist, and wanted a taste. She grabbed the wrist, to which Trevy took in a nervous breath, awaiting another blossom of pain. It did not come. The taller woman’s tongue brushed against it instead, the erotic act now making Trevy excited, rather than fearful.

Josephine’s thirst was quenched, but she was still _hungry._

She got on top of the Inquisitor in an instant. Their bodies slotted against each other pleasurably, as if they were destined to dance in such an act. Curiosity about her lips uncontrollable, she leaned down and stopped short. Trevelyan granted permission by pulling her face down to her and engulfing her in a hot kiss. Josephine’s blood roared in her ears at finally being able to feel Trevy’s luscious lips on hers. The Inquisitors lips were frantic, sensual. Her blood on Josephine’s tongue and those sharp, dangerous fangs made her notice how considerably drenched she is in her nether regions.

What Trevy felt, Josephine smelled. Her hand played with the hem of the smaller woman’s underwear, only delving further as it was shoved by Trevy’s insistent hand. She loudly gasped at fingers playing at her center, driving her crazy with the pleasurable patterns she was dealt with. She felt Josephine’s clothed hardness grinding on her thigh making her even wetter. Josephine’s fingers were encouraged to play at her entrance. One finger, then two, and Trevy let out a long moan, her hand now grasping at the Josephine’s erection. With only one hand, she fumbled at releasing it from confinement, letting out a small squeak at the size when she finally saw it.

Josephine chuckled, though this was laced with exertion from the effort of her fingers working inside Trevy.

Her body was thrumming with excitement as she felt herself getting closer to the edge. A thumb at her clit and fingers going in and out of her made her babble incoherent syllables. Her hand at Josephine’s length tightened, hips thrusting with the rhythm of Josephine’s hand in an attempt to reach release.

_Rrrip_

She heard her underwear being ripped away, as well as what was left of her chest bindings. Josephine’s coverings and trousers too, were off soon after. She positioned herself between Trevy’s legs, kneeling back on her haunches.

The ambassador was a sight in the moonlight.

The outline of her body was outlined by a milky lighting, the tips of her breasts and leaking erection visible. Josephine’s hungry stare increased tenfold, making her feel like prey under her. She welcomed what sweet death awaited her.

A stiff warmth grinded against her folds. Trevy’s hands brushed against Josephine’s shoulders, moving her hips in return to get more pleasure. Trevy moaned when the head brushed against her clit repeatedly. She could feel the leaking precum against her drenched folds.

At last, Josephine lined up the head at the entrance, lubricating it with the wetness. Then she pushed.

Trevy let out a strangled gasp at the intrusion. It was large, hot. It stretched her immensely. She could feel the ridges, the twitching the further it went it. She felt pleasure. She felt filled.

Josephine could hear fireworks going off in her mind. The Inquisitor’s walls held her in a vice-like grip, never wanting to let her go. The feeling of being engulfed in her slick, oily muscles could never compare to the fantasies she’s had. The tightness made her thighs shake in pleasure.

After a few moments passed, Josephine finally found the strength to move. She put her palms on either side of Trevy’s head, the other woman in turn putting her hands on Josephine’s back. Their movement was slow and steady, acquainting themselves with the feel of each other’s bodies. Josephine kissed her again, slowly this time. She wanted the full experience of those lips on her, and maybe later, around her.

The steady going of those hips between Trevy’s legs placated her, but she wanted _more._ Josephine got the message when she felt hands on her bottom drive her faster, harder. In a sudden shift from the slow and sensual atmosphere, she pounded in Trevy with all the force she could muster. She thrived to ensure to always hit the spots that made the Inquisitor scream. Trevy immensely enjoyed the way the ambassador’s breasts bounced with every thrust. Removing one hand from Josephine’s bottom, she played with a nipple that was ever-stiffening. This elicited Josephine to thrust faster. The slapping sounds of their copulation, combined with the strong smell of sex, made Josephine’s new instincts roar with a feeling of _rightness._ She could feel herself growing thicker, readying to burst into the woman she was inside of.

Trevy could feel it too, and the prospect made her giddy.

In a reversal of earlier, she flipped them around, with Josephine now the one under her. She palmed Josephine’s breasts with her hands, enjoying their weight under her palms. Josephine wished she could see Trevy’s round bottom bounce with every drop to her cock. For now though, she leaned up and held her bottoms, helping the smaller woman back and forth to her. Their pubes were drenched from the abundance of their mixed juices. Their movement slippery and desperate.

Trevy felt a build-up to her orgasm; Josephine’s hard length ramming into her pleasurable spot with brute force made her chant the ambassador’s name louder and louder. She grinded her clit against her with every thrust. She wanted it, and wanted it bad. Her hips were erratic with desperation.

Trevy’s position on top made her bitemark illuminated. She could feel herself close to release, and she wanted one last taste.

With a growl, she burst into the Inquisitor. Ropes of cum violently spurting out of her head, filling her up copiously. She bit into her neck and welcomed the familiar sweet tang of her blood. Josephine let out a string of moans from both sensations.

The hotness bursting inside her, coupled with the sting in her neck, proved too much for one Inquisitor. She came with a shout. The sound of her reverberated around the cave walls, adding to the echoes of the sounds of their copulation. Trevy felt hot and cold all over, stars bursting behind her closed eyelids. Her fingernails leaving scratches on Josephine’s back and finally resting on her neck. Josephine’s hips were still rutting into her, her insides wanting to milk every last drop. The taller woman’s hard grip on her buttocks encouraging every strong squirt of warmth into her.

The last thing Trevy remembered was Josephine’s red eyes bearing into her own.

\---------

“So you’re saying that some magic trees harassed you, you and the ambassador got lost, found a cave, an orb, and now Josephine can drink blood?”

“Yes, Leliana. Amongst other things at least.”

The spymaster turned to face Josephine. They were in Leliana’s lair, and had to suffer the questioning regarding their peculiar trip.

“You know that Sylvians act on strong emotion, yes?”

Josephine coughed. “Why are you asking me in particular, Leliana? The Inquisitor herself could have been feeling a torrent of emotions that time.”

“Yes,” Leliana replied, “but you’re the one who has been commenting on how beautiful and gorgeous and graceful Lady Trevelyan will look in her formal dress uniform, as well as the one who has been pining for _months_ and forcing me to hear all the gory details.”

The ambassador turned into a deep shade of scarlet. The Inquisitor spit out her tea, making one of the crows squawk with the rudeness.

Finally relenting, Josephine said, “I…may…have been ogling her behind as she was on horseback…and, um.”

Charter was patting the Inquisitor’s back who apparently violently choked on her tea.

“I see. Nothing else happened? Nothing affecting the, ah, integrity of the Inquisition?”

“None.”

“Alright, ambassador. Charter, can you kindly tell me of your opinion on what kind of animal might have attacked the Lady Trevelyan’s neck and made her walking limp.”

“No! There is _absolutely_ no need for that, Charter, thank you. Josephine and I had a tumble, is all. How’s Caer Bronach going, scout? The nug infestation under control?”

“A tumble, huh? Did Josephine ‘tumble’ inside you as well?”

Trevelyan chocked again, this time on air. Charter was sending helpless looks to the spymaster as her hand was again on the Inquisitor’s back, to which Leliana shook her head. She should ask for a raise.

“If you’re quite finished, Leliana. It seems you already all know the details.” Josephine sighed.

“Not the juicy ones…” Leliana smiled, “…yet.”

The spymaster and senior scout finally left to discuss Charter’s station in Crestwood, and possibly to gossip about the potential romance. The two women regarded each other in silence.

“So……months? So it wasn’t just sex for you?” Trevy smirked.

Josephine groaned, “Don’t pretend as if I wasn’t the only one, my lady. It is only that _one of us_ is oblivious as a dragon with a fly on her head.”

“I don’t recall you being so salty when I….rode on _your_ dragon.”

“ _Inquisitor!_ ”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Consider the Thedosian equivalent of an Italian vampire:
> 
> “I can’t go back to Antiva now, I’m afraid.” Josephine sighed.
> 
> “Are you afraid you’ll hurt your family? Be an outcast? Burned alive? Whatever it is, Josephine, I swear on my Maker-damned soul that I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” Trevy's protective side reared its head.
> 
> “No need to be so dramatic, mi amor!” Josephine giggled, “unless you wish to duel against the might of Antiva’s garlic?”


End file.
